


Flight Interrupted

by Victorious56



Series: Qrowtober 2020 [1]
Category: RWBY
Genre: M/M, Pre-Relationship, Qrowtober (RWBY), Rated for a Few Swears
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-11-11
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:28:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26750635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Victorious56/pseuds/Victorious56
Summary: Qrow is a bird on a mission. When he finds himself caught in a storm, it takes an unexpected turn.
Relationships: Qrow Branwen/Clover Ebi
Series: Qrowtober 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1948003
Comments: 25
Kudos: 50





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Qrowtober 2020 Day 2: Feathers
> 
> This ended up longer than I'd anticipated, so there will be 3 more chapters to follow.

This had been a longer mission than usual. Qrow was generally gone no more than a week at a time, returning to Ozpin to report his findings. He would have a few days rest, recharging his human form, ready for the next assignment.

It had all seemed so glamorous at the start. Something from a spy novel, or a blockbuster film. The reality was somewhat more mundane, and Qrow found himself wishing occasionally that Oz's special gift had passed him by. There didn't seem to be an option to return it, sadly. So, he continued.

After two days, Qrow received the call. An urgent mission, and Raven wasn't available. "I appreciate it's a lot to ask of you, Qrow. I know you've not had your usual recovery time, and if it wasn't important, then I would leave you in peace. But—"

"Just give me the details, Oz. The sooner I get on with it, the sooner I can get back to my downtime."

  


Now he was heading home, mission accomplished, and feeling more tired than he ever had before. His very bones felt heavy, his feathers ragged, and the buffeting winds did not help his flight. The sky ahead was slate grey, layer upon layer of rain clouds waiting to engulf the weary black bird which flew onwards.

Qrow's feathers were not in the best condition, and the damp began to permeate through to his skin. There were no thermals to assist his flight, and with every wing beat he lost a little more height. Knowing he had to take shelter and wait for the storm to pass, he swooped lower, spying a thicket of trees ahead.

❖

Clover looked out of the wide window, the gloomy surroundings an unwelcome sight. It was only four o'clock, but the sun had given up for the day, and the house felt chilly. He rose from his seat to turn on the lamps, even though it seemed too early, when a _thump_ against the window startled him. _Not another bird casualty_. He glanced through the glass, but couldn't see anything except his own reflection. The birds outside faced a similar problem, and it was all too common for a bird to fly towards the reflected trees, coming to a sorry end as they collided with the glass.

Stepping outside, and wishing immediately he'd put a jacket on, Clover walked round to the patio to see if the bird was dead, or merely stunned. As he rounded the corner of his house, he found neither was the case.

A bedraggled, windswept man was slumped on the patio, motionless.

Clover stopped, his mouth falling open. _What the..._ Looking around, there was no sign of a bird, alive or dead. Only the man.

He approached cautiously, crouching beside the prone figure in the encroaching gloom. The man's pale skin was wet, his dark hair sticking to his head in damp, untidy clumps. Clover rested a hand against his neck, his fingers sensing a pulse beating quickly beneath the cool skin. As he withdrew his hand, wondering if it was safe to try and move the man inside, the other rolled over with a groan.

"Fuck."

Clover sat back on his heels. "Uh, hello. You seem to have had an accident... what happened?"

"Fuck."

_He's obviously concussed or something._

"Can you stand? I'll help you indoors..." Clover reached for his hand to help him.

The man peered up at Clover, his red eyes narrowing. "Who are you?"

"Uh, I live here. Clover Ebi." He wiggled his outstretched hand a little.

The man ignored it, pushing himself to his feet and brushing his hands over his clothes. He looked at Clover keenly, finally grasping his hand in a cool grip. "Qrow."

"Just _Qrow_?" Clover's lips twitched as their hands separated.

"It's all you need to know. Can I dry off for a bit, if you don't mind?"

"Not at all, come in. This is no weather to be outside."

Clover did not notice the small flurry of black feathers left behind on the patio, as he led the way back inside.

He followed the path round the side of the house, glancing over his shoulder. The man was no longer behind him. Clover ran back round the corner and saw him, lying on the ground. He'd managed about six steps before collapsing again.

Cursing under his breath, Clover stooped down. The man was muttering unintelligibly, but did not reply to Clover's urgent words. Deciding that he had to do something, Clover crouched down and managed to lift Qrow over his shoulder. He was surprisingly heavy for a person with what at first glance looked to have a fairly slight frame, and Clover staggered as he carried him inside.

With Qrow still slumped over his shoulder, Clover struggled to the living room and laid him carefully on the sofa. His head fell back against the cushion, his breathing raspy. Clover stood back, running his hands through his hair.

He _could_ call for an ambulance, but his house was remotely located, and it would take a while to reach them. As he considered and rejected a series of ideas, the man coughed and sat up.

"Where am I? Who are you? What—" He looked about him, face wreathed in confusion.

Clover's brow furrowed. Hadn't they done this already?

"I'm Clover, and this is my house. You had some kind of a fall, I think. You wanted to come in to dry off, then you collapsed, so I brought you inside."

He looked up at Clover, red eyes wide. "Yeah, but... who am I?"

Clover regarded him in stunned silence. The seated man chewed his lip, his forehead creasing as though the act of thinking was painful.

"You said your name was Qrow."

_This is some kind of amnesia, I need to get him to a doctor._

"Crow? What kind of ridiculous name is that?"

Clover shrugged helplessly. "You've hit your head, I imagine, and it's caused short-term memory loss, or something. You need to see a doctor."

At that suggestion, the man's face paled even further. "No, no doctors. I don't know why... but I mustn't see a doctor. At least," his face screwed up in concentration, "there is a doctor I can see, but... I don't know where they are."

Clover put his hands on his hips. "You need medical attention, or there could be irreparable damage for all you know."

"No, it'll be okay. I remember... some things. This has happened before, it just needs a few days, a week at most, and I'll be good to go."

"Where do you need to be? Can I drive you somewhere?" Clover was unsure of the best course of action, but the other man seemed insistent.

"That's the problem." He looked at Clover, a small, rueful smile on his lips. "I don't exactly know."

Clover gazed at Qrow. The effect of the smile was remarkable— his whole face warmed up, the corners of his eyes crinkling with the curve of his mouth. After a moment which Clover realised had lasted too long, he said, "You— you can stay here if you like." There was a constriction in his throat as he stammered the words out.

"Thank you, Clover."

  


Qrow sat on the stranger's sofa and looked up at him. He knew, without knowing how, that his lack of knowledge of who he was, and what he was doing, was temporary. In a few days his memory would be fully restored, and he could continue his journey. What his destination was, or the purpose of his travels, was unknown to him. He was not fazed, however. This had happened before.

There were worse places to end up, Qrow decided. This man, Clover, appeared friendly enough.

Now I think about it, this is a weird situation. I could be in danger, and not even realise.

Qrow didn't feel threatened, though. The man on whose sofa he was currently seated, exuded the opposite of threat. _Safety?_

It was a good sensation.

❖

"Here's the spare bedroom, I've put some things on the bed if you need them."

Qrow saw clothes, a towel, and a toothbrush. He turned to Clover, a grateful smile on his face. "You've been very kind, thank you."

"If you want to take a shower, there's the en-suite." Clover gestured to the corner of the bedroom. "I can put your clothes through the washing machine, if you like."

"Thanks, but I don't want to trouble you. I can do it if you show me the machine."

"Great, well, I'll leave you to it."

Clover returned to the living room, glancing out at the darkness which now surrounded the house. He drew the curtains and sat down, feeling suddenly weary.

_Who is he, how did he come to be in my garden, and what did he mean when I first found him?_

_"It's all you need to know."_

It was a slightly ominous sentence, and the man's demeanour had been annoyed... truculent. But after his second collapse, his manner was much more amiable.

Clover rubbed his face. He didn't know what to make of it, and now there was a stranger in his house, who'd be staying for a few days. Clover's usually cautious self had behaved in an atypical way, and he hoped no harm would come from it.

❖

Qrow smiled gratefully as Clover passed him a plate. He'd hit the jackpot here, and no mistake. A secure place to recover, food provided, and a handsome face to look at while he ate it.

"I can stay in the bedroom; you won't even know I'm here."

"It's fine, Qrow. Make yourself at home, it might help the time pass more quickly."

Qrow smiled his thanks and took another forkful. "You're very kind, Clover. This could have gone a lot worse."

"How do you mean?"

"It's odd... like I said, this has happened before, and I know I'll be okay in a bit. I just can't grasp the details somehow." He gazed at Clover, brow slightly furrowed.

They finished the meal in silence, and as Qrow swallowed the last mouthful, he said, "I'll go up now, if you don't mind. I'm pretty tired."

"Of course, whatever you want." Clover jumped up and cleared the table. "See you tomorrow, then. Sleep well, Qrow."

❖

Clover was ex-military. He'd kept up with his fitness regime, and was sure he could look after himself in any evenly matched situation. Why he wasn't more concerned about the presence of a stranger in his house, he couldn't fathom.

He felt at ease around Qrow, in a way he couldn't remember feeling for a long time— if ever. And given Qrow had only been here a few hours, that was very odd indeed.

Clover twisted in his bed, unable to get comfortable. Since moving to the isolated house, he'd been content— the quiet solitude was a welcome change from the regimented, 'always-on' nature of his former life. The concept of loneliness had not even occurred to him, but now he wondered... maybe it was time to pick up the threads of a social life. Find someone to share his time with.

After a long time he finally fell asleep, to dream of a bird flying towards him. It dropped from the sky, almost skimming his hair, before beating its wings and lifting itself back into the grey sky.

  


Qrow woke early, from a sleep filled with confusing images he could not understand. The room was still dark; the sun—if it had risen yet—was on the far side of the house. He ran his hands over his body, checking in to see how everything felt. His head was sore, his shoulders and arms ached, and there was a lethargy keeping him pinned to the bed. _It's a comfortable bed, at least._ His mind went through the events leading up to this, the details frustratingly vague. He recalled a collision of some sort, a man bending over him... Clover, that was it. There were green eyes, a concerned face... Qrow stirred languidly between the smooth sheets. He knew he'd be on his way in a few days; there was no reason he couldn't enjoy his stay while he was here.


	2. Chapter 2

By the following morning, the storm had blown itself out and a thin sunlight was attempting to brighten the sky. Clover walked around the outside of the house, checking there was no damage from the high winds. All seemed to be fine, and as he crossed the back lawn he noticed some dark shapes on the patio. There were a number of black feathers stuck to the flagstones, caught in the remnants of a puddle.

Clover remembered how he thought he'd heard the sound of a bird hitting the window the previous day. There was no sign of one now, so he assumed it had recovered and flown away. He crouched down, picking one particularly large feather from the puddle. Twirling it between his fingers to shake off the drips of water, he went back into the house.

He propped the feather in a jar on the kitchen windowsill, before casting a thoughtful look upwards. There was no sound from the spare bedroom, and Clover wondered if his unexpected visitor was awake yet. He went upstairs and tapped gently on Qrow's bedroom door.

"Mmm?" A slow, deep voice sounded from beyond the door.

"I was thinking about breakfast, can I get you anything?"

There was a creak, followed by a groan, and a shuffling sound, before the door opened to reveal Qrow's yawning face. He was wearing the pyjamas Clover had put out for him, a spare pair which hung a little loosely on his leaner frame.

"Breakfast sounds great. I'll throw some clothes on and be down in a jiffy." His red eyes looked into Clover's face, and for a moment Clover forgot what he was meant to be doing.

"Uh right, I'll go and do things in the kitchen." Clover went back downstairs quickly, marvelling again that there was a strange man in his spare bedroom, and this fact didn't concern him at all.

  


"Omelette?" Clover put down the bowl of eggs he'd been beating, as Qrow entered the kitchen. He was still wearing the ill-fitting pyjamas, gripping the waistband of the trousers as he walked across to the table.

"I forgot about my clothes; they're still damp from yesterday."

"Oh, well, we can sort them out later. Would you like an omelette?"

"That sounds great, but... I'm not sure you should be waiting on me like this." Qrow smiled at Clover as he took a seat. "I'm imposing on you, and I feel guilty about that."

"You're my guest, Qrow, so don't worry. And it's a pleasant change for me to have the company." As he said it, Clover knew it to be true. His solitary life was all very well, but having Qrow to talk to made him realise how much he missed the simple contact with another person.

  


"So, how are you feeling today?" Clover began to clear the table, and Qrow got up to help.

"Physically, a fair bit better, thanks. I still have a way to go before my head is back where it should be, though. I'm so—"

"If you apologise once more, I may have to take action," Clover laughed. "Seriously, it's fine. I was... struggling a bit with my work. Your arrival is a welcome distraction, in a way." He closed the door of the dishwasher, turning to face Qrow, who was leaning against the counter. "I have plenty of room here, so..."

There was a short silence. Clover's cheeks took on a faint flush as they looked at each other.

"So... what do you do for a living, Clover?"

The other man rubbed a hand through his hair. "I write. Books, you know."

"Oh! Somehow I didn't think it'd be that." Qrow's eyebrows raised as his gaze traveled the length of Clover's body, reaching his face which was now even pinker.

"Why not? What did you think my job was, then?"

"Uh, something more physical? You look like someone who uses their body— I mean..." It was Qrow's turn to blush as he stammered to a halt. "You don't look like someone who spends all their time sitting at a desk." He tugged at the pyjamas, averting his eyes from Clover's smile.

"I'll take that as a compliment... I think?"

Qrow took a deep breath and raised his eyes. "You can."

There was another extended silence, which Qrow broke, saying, "So, what kind of books?"

"Uh, fiction... thrillers, espionage, spies, that kind of thing."

Qrow's reaction was not one Clover expected. His face paled and he stared at Clover, worrying his lower lip against his teeth.

"Spy stories?" Qrow's voice was muted, the question almost posed to himself, or so it seemed to Clover.

"Yeah... not exactly literary masterpieces, but they pay the bills, you know? I was invalided out of the army, and that helped me get this place, and..." He tailed off as he observed Qrow. The other man's face remained pale and his forehead was wrinkled in thought.

Qrow shook himself, seeming to come back to the present as he stood straighter. "Sorry, I just got a bit— when you said spy, I got a kind of flashback, or something..." He rubbed both hands through his hair, pressing against the counter to ensure his trousers didn't slip. "Gods, I hate this feeling. Not knowing who I am, or where I should be, or—"

Clover move to stand in front of Qrow, and rested a hand lightly on bis shoulder. "I'm sure it'll be okay soon, you said so yourself. Look, why don't we go out for a walk? The weather's fine at the moment, and maybe the fresh air will help."

Qrow regarded him with a grateful smile. "Thanks, Clover. That's not a bad idea, but... I need to wash my clothes, and I don't fancy going out in pyjamas. Though they are very nice pyjamas, please don't think I'm ungrateful," he said hastily.

"I can lend you something, I'm sure." Clover stood back and looked Qrow up and down. Qrow watched Clover's face as he did so, noting the heightened colour of his cheeks as his eyes slowly returned to Qrow's face. "Uh, well, you're about my height but a bit slimmer, so I'll go and see what I can find."

Clover bustled out of the kitchen, leaving Qrow to follow more slowly. _I get the feeling this guy is interested, but... is it worth it? I'll be gone in a couple of days..._ He straightened his shoulders and went upstairs, as Clover emerged from his bedroom with an armful of clothes.

Qrow laughed. "I don't think I'll need all those!"

"It's good to have a choice... and if you're here for a few days, you'll need more than one set." Clover held out the bundle of garments, adding gruffly, "Here you go." He glanced at Qrow before turning to go. "Any time you want to go out, I'll be downstairs."

Qrow watched Clover descend the stairs, a small smile on his face.

_Definitely interested._

Qrow found a pair of slim-fitting jeans and a not too baggy t-shirt to put on. He also grabbed a hoodie to wear outside, and headed down to find Clover.

His host was gathering up some papers in the living room, tidying the desk in one corner where a laptop and a stack of notebooks sat. Qrow paused in the doorway and watched him move about the room, admiring his physique and the way he moved gracefully, his footsteps light. It was an appealing combination.

Clover turned away from the desk and saw Qrow standing watchfully by the door. His face brightened as he took in what Qrow was wearing.

"Those jeans look far better on you than they ever did on me. Can't think what possessed me to buy them."

"They're pretty comfortable, thank you. I keep saying thank you, don't I? Sorry about that."

Clover laughed. "You keep saying sorry as well, and there's no need. Like I said, you're a welcome visitor." He glanced at Qrow, looking back out through the window. "It's still dry, if you fancy a stroll?"

"Sure." Qrow pulled the hoodie over his head, managing to get one sleeve caught up as he did so. After watching him struggle for a moment, Clover stepped forward.

"Here, let me." He loosened the sleeve, allowing Qrow to push his arm through, before gently easing the garment over his head. Qrow's flushed face emerged, his hair tousled, as Clover tugged it down across his body.

"Thanks."

They stood no more than a foot apart. Clover reached out and smoothed Qrow's hair where it was sticking up in unruly tufts from his head. Qrow stood very still, his eyes on Clover's face. He raised a hand to his hair, brushing against Clover's fingers as he did so.

"Thanks. Again." He ran his hand across the back of his head. "So where's the best place for a walk round here?"

"Uh, from the end of the garden... I'll get an umbrella, just in case."

❖

Clover locked the back door and they walked down the path at the side of the house, crossing the patio and continuing over the grass to the fence which ran across the back of the garden. Qrow turned and looked back at the house as they walked. The trees which clustered around the fence were reflected in the glass of the large windows set in the back wall of the house. Qrow squinted, staring hard at the reflected trees, before turning to join Clover, who was opening a wooden gate in the back fence.

There was a faint yet constant sighing in the branches above, a fitful breeze disturbing the evergreens into motion. Qrow gazed up, his eyes drawn to the canopy as he searched for... _what? Why am I fascinated by trees all of a sudden?_

Clover watched him as he held the small gate open. He saw the stretch of Qrow's pale throat as he lifted his head to study the trees above. The smooth white skin, the bump of his Adam's apple, the faint stubble across his jaw... As Qrow lowered his gaze and passed through the gate, Clover looked away, reddening. _I don't know this guy, I shouldn't keep staring at him._

Qrow smiled. "You're lucky, having all this—" he waved an arm at the landscape beyond, "—so close to home."

Clover breathed in and out slowly, concentrating on fastening the gate, before replying. "I am, and I probably don't appreciate it as I should. It's easy to just sit inside and work... although when I hit a block I find coming out here helps."

"It would!" Qrow's voice was enthusiastic as they set off along the line of trees bordering the wide field. He raised his arms, almost skipping ahead of Clover and twirling round. "All this sky! And the trees, and the air... the wind..." He scampered back to Clover like an excited puppy. "It's exhilarating!"

Clover's smile was wide. "You're happy," he said, as Qrow took his hand and swung it back and forth.

"I am... and I don't even know why!" Qrow laughed. "I feel like I want to hug something..." He paused, lifting his hands but stopping before he touched Clover.

Clover's eyes widened, and he joined in with Qrow's merriment. "Why not?"

The two men hugged, and as Clover breathed in the scent of Qrow's hair, he felt his heart swell in his chest. This simple enjoyment of merely existing, of being, was something he hadn't experienced in a long time.

They broke apart, and Qrow grinned at Clover.

"You're an unusual man, Qrow."

Qrow frowned. "Is that a good thing?"

"I reckon so." As Qrow's smile returned, he added, "Right, race you to the far hedge." Clover pointed to the distant side of the field.

"You're on!" Qrow set off immediately, before Clover had a chance to catch his breath.

"Oi! That's cheating!" Laughing, he started to run.

❖

An hour or so later, the two men were back in the kitchen, hair tousled and slightly damp from the drizzle which had begun as they were on their way home. Qrow's cheeks were pink, Clover's even pinker, as they slowly regained their breath after the final dash to the house.

Clover was bent forward, willing his breathing to catch up. "I mean, I... go to the gym, but... I haven't run like that in ages... not outside, anyway." He looked up at Qrow, who was smirking at him whilst getting two glasses of water.

"You just need more of the right kind of exercise." He handed a glass to Clover.

Clover raised his eyebrows, lifting the glass in a _Cheers_ gesture. "What sort of exercise would you recommend?" He felt his heart beating faster once more, as he sipped the water and tried to present an outwardly calm appearance.

Qrow quirked an eyebrow. "I could suggest a few... routines." He smiled slowly at Clover, slurping his water noisily.

Clover stared at him for a moment, before putting his glass down and letting out a snort of laughter. "You're... shameless, Qrow. But I've laughed more today than I have for a long time, so... thank you."

"I aim to please." Qrow finished his drink and turned back to the sink.

Clover wondered how it would feel if he had the opportunity to please this man— and how it would feel if Qrow were to reciprocate.

_It's just a dream... I couldn't get that lucky._


	3. Chapter 3

The day after the walk the rain returned, a grey curtain at every window which obscured the distant trees and the field beyond. Inside the house was gloomy, and Clover switched on several lamps in an attempt to brighten the rooms.

"Not worth going out for a walk today," he said after breakfast. They stood side by side, looking out at the dreary vista.

"No," Qrow agreed. He sounded distracted, and Clover glanced at him.

"How are you doing today, Qrow?"

"Not sure." Qrow's voice was thoughtful, as he reached for the black feather which Clover had brought in from the garden yesterday. "What's this? I mean, it's a feather, but... where did you get it?" He twirled the feather by its shaft, studying the iridescent blueish colouration before stroking his cheek pensively with it.

"It was on the patio... there were a few of them. I think a bird hit the window in the storm... it was about the time you appeared, actually." Clover frowned. "I've just realised— how did you get here, Qrow? Can you remember _anything_? I mean... this is a private garden, there's no road near the back of the house at all..." He half turned to face Qrow, who was still fiddling with the feather.

"I—" There was a deep frown on Qrow's face, his turbulent thoughts apparent as he stared at Clover. "This feather means something... I know it. Gods!" He put the feather back in the jar, turning away with an impatient gesture. "This is _so frustrating_!"

Clover hesitated, then stepped toward him and placed his hands on Qrow's shoulders. He squeezed gently. "It'll come. Sorry for pestering you, when it's not your fault you can't remember."

Qrow turned round, raising one hand to rest it over Clover's. "I know... sorry for that. But— what kind of person am I, that has this happen to them? I wish I knew." His words ended in a whisper, as he gazed into Clover's face.

Clover repressed the urge to draw the other man closer, to try and comfort him somehow. He smiled a little, before saying, "How about a cup of tea? And... do you play video games, at all?"

Qrow's face brightened. "Tea would be nice, and yes, I do. Do you fancy—"

"Playing some? Yeah, let's do that. This is the weather for video games."

  


They passed a totally non-productive morning, as Clover's nagging worry about the lack of progress with his writing was forgotten. He would sometimes play games himself, and he'd forgotten how much more fun it was with two.

It was getting close to lunchtime, when a thought struck Clover. "Qrow, I don't know why this just came to me... don't you have a way to contact your people? Your boss, or whoever?"

Qrow glanced at him, before looking away, his face reddening. "Ah, well, yes. Kind of."

Clover raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. Qrow continued.

"I forgot about it at first, because... brain, you know. Then I washed my clothes. And then I found my scroll... which was very clean, but no longer working." He looked at Clover, his face even pinker.

Clover stared at him. Then he laughed. "Gods, what a doofus you are!"

Qrow pouted, before joining in with the laughter. "Well, in this instance, maybe a bit."

"And you don't know a number you can call from here?"

Qrow shook his head.

Clover sighed. "Oh well, if you'd left straight away we wouldn't have had the chance to beat each other up, would we? Virtually, I mean." He waved a hand at the TV.

"True. And it's been fun." Qrow smiled. _This_ is _fun. It's like a normal life._

Clover's brow furrowed. "Seriously, though. If you'd ended up somewhere inhospitable, or... where someone could do you harm..." He looked at Qrow, his eyes wide. "It doesn't seem a very— safe way to live."

Qrow looked back at him thoughtfully. _He's not wrong._

❖

After lunch, Qrow felt tired and was struggling to keep his eyes open. Clover noticed, and asked if he was okay.

"Yeah, I think so. Probably all part of the process... or something." He scratched his head. "I'm getting a few more snippets... pointers as to what's going on, I think." He got up and crossed the kitchen, picking up the black feather once more. There was a crease between his eyebrows as he studied it. "I still don't know _who_ I am, exactly, but— I know _what_ I am. I work for someone called Oz, and I go to places and find out stuff for him. Secrets. Like—"

"A spy?" finished Clover. "That's why you reacted to what I said yesterday, about my writing."

"Probably, yeah. And—" The feather twirled in his fingers, as Qrow gazed at it. "This is significant... though I don't know in what way, yet." He yawned, replacing the feather and covering his mouth. "Would it be okay if I went and lay down for a bit?"

"Of course! Though you shouldn't sleep for too long in the afternoon... I'll make a cup of tea later and wake you, if you like?"

"Perfect, thanks, Clover." Qrow gave him a grateful smile and left the kitchen for his room.

❖

Clover spent the next few hours sitting at his desk, finding he was able to write for the first time in several days. He'd set a timer to remind him when it was time to put the kettle on, and once the tea was brewing he went to check on Qrow.

He paused at the bedroom door, hearing the sounds of snoring beyond it. A gentle tap elicited no response, so he knocked louder, eventually opening the door a little and peering inside.

Qrow lay on his back, his mouth open. Clover coughed loudly, and finally Qrow stirred, muttering something before rolling over and squinting toward the door.

"Cup of tea?"

"Mmm, gimme a minute." Qrow yawned and sat up, rubbing his eyes with the back of a hand. Swinging his legs onto the floor, he pushed against his knees to stand. He stretched with a groan, and Clover couldn't ignore the expanse of pale skin as Qrow's shirt pulled away from his trousers. The trail of dark hair below his navel did nothing to quell the warmth Clover felt, spreading from his chest into his abdomen.

"When you're ready." Clover shot a glance at Qrow, willing his face to cool, before retreating from the doorway and returning to the kitchen.

  


"So, how's the memory?" Clover pushed the biscuit tin across the kitchen table. "Not that I'm trying to hasten your departure at all."

Qrow took a biscuit, looking at Clover's smiling face. "And I'm in no hurry to leave. I'm enjoying your cups of tea." He looked down as he dunked the biscuit in his mug. "But... I am getting a bit of a clearer picture. I can see, in my head, where I was heading back to. I can picture it, vaguely, though I'm not certain where it is, yet. And—" He broke off to eat the remainder of his biscuit. "There is one thing which sounds crazy, but does explain a few things."

"Hmm?"

Qrow bit his lip. "I can't say this and make it sound sensible, so I'll just say it. I can become a bird."

Clover gaped at him. "What? Are you serious?"

"Yeah, I know, it sounds bonkers. But... well, I suppose the only way to prove it, would be to do it, if you like."

"But—" Clover couldn't make sense of any of it. "How? I mean, really, _how_?"

"Something to do with Oz, and magic. That's how I can spy, and that's how I came to be on your patio the other evening. I must have flown into the window." Qrow frowned, trying to remember. "I thought they were trees... it was the reflection. In the rain, it confused me."

Clover's world had spun off course to somewhere very strange indeed, where magic existed and people could become birds. _I'm not sure I like this._ "Can you do it?" His voice was hesitant; he wasn't certain he wanted Qrow to become this person.

Qrow left the table and stood still, his red eyes fixed on something Clover couldn't see. Clover stared, as Qrow's body went out of focus, the air seeming to shift and swirl before Clover's eyes. He blinked several times, and there was a large black bird on his kitchen floor.

The silence in the room stretched between them, than Clover said, jerkily, "Can you speak?"

The response was a soft _caw._

"Okay, so that's a no, then."

The crow walked a few steps back and forth, its head on one side as it regarded Clover. He rubbed his hand across his face. "Gods, Qrow... Crow! It's obvious." His laugh was uneasy. "I hope you can turn back."

The same irregularity of the air clouded Clover's vision, and Qrow was there once more.

"I'm sorry, Clover— it's a lot to make sense of. If you don't feel comfortable with me being here, I'll go."

Clover jumped up, catching hold of Qrow's hand. "No, you can't... you said you don't know yet where you need to be. Just— maybe don't do it again, for a bit. It's weird, you know."

Qrow squeezed Clover's hand. "Yeah, it is. And... thanks."

The quiet moment extended as they stood, fingers linked. With a final press of his hand, Clover moved away. "Fancy a return match?"

"Mmm, why not." Qrow's small smile clutched at Clover's heart as they went back into the living room.

❖

The rest of the day passed pleasantly enough. There was no further talk of bird transformations, or espionage. Qrow sensed he would soon be back to normal—whatever was normal for him, anyway—and although he wanted to resume his life, he was starting to think he didn't want to leave Clover, never to see him again. He stole a sidelong glance at the man sitting along the sofa from him. Clover was frowning slightly as he focussed on the screen, his teeth teasing his lower lip as he tried to get the better of Qrow's fighter. He narrowly failed, and as the victory music played he turned to Qrow.

"You beat me, again! How are you so good at this?"

"I guess I've played before... muscle memory, and all that." Qrow grinned at Clover's narrowed eyes.

"And I thought you were a rookie. This is mis-representation, Qrow."

They laughed as Clover set up the next game. He was about to start, when Qrow held up a hand.

"Look, I wanted to apologise... about the bird thing. In my head it doesn't seem too strange, but— it obviously is, and I'm sorry if I freaked you out."

Clover rested the controller on his knees. "You did, a bit. I'm over it now, though." He smiled, adding, "But please tell me if there are any more surprises coming, won't you?"

Qrow nodded slowly. "There is one more thing I've remembered. From what I can recall when this has happened before—though I don't think it happens _very_ often—when I'm almost back to normal, it takes a little while for my... personality, I guess, to settle down. So, I might be a bit weird for a short time. But, I'll be on my way pretty soon, I think." There was a colourless tone to his voice as he finished speaking.

"Well, let's make the most of the rest of your stay, then." Clover tried to summon up a cheerfulness he did not feel, as they continued their game.

  


They finished the day with a film, a comedy Clover had seen before, many years ago. Qrow did not know it, and Clover found he got more enjoyment from it the second time around. _And I know why that is_. He glanced sideways at Qrow's face, the smile on it causing his heart to beat a little faster.

  


Qrow shut his bedroom door with a click. Bidding Clover goodnight, after an evening spent laughing at the film they'd watched together until his face ached, felt so _right._

_I could happily spend more of my days like this._


	4. Chapter 4

The next day Qrow did not appear for breakfast. Concerned, Clover waited a while, then went to the guest bedroom and tapped lightly on the door. A mumbled sound was the only response.

Clover cautiously opened the door a fraction, peering round the edge into the room.

Qrow was spreadeagled on the bed, his face in the pillow and one arm dangling over the edge. The sheets were in a tangle at the foot of the bed, Qrow's legs caught up in them. He was naked.

Clover stood rigidly, torn between retreating silently, and entering to check Qrow was okay. He'd decided on the former, and edged backwards, when one red eye opened and peered at him.

"What you looking at, boy scout?"

"I... uh... breakfast?" Clover's brain had taken a short break as he stared at the prone man before him. All he could think of was how Qrow's body was so pale, so lithe, so muscular, so perfect...

Qrow smirked. "That's the correct answer." He rolled over and sat up, either unaware or uncaring of his state of undress.

Clover couldn't move. He was trying desperately to look away from the bed, aware of Qrow's wicked grin as he watched his discomfiture.

"Qrow, I—"

"Sorry, this really isn't fair, is it?" Qrow finally pulled the sheet around his body, looking back at Clover. "Is that better?"

"No... I mean yes, of course... gods, this is what you were talking about yesterday. The personality change thing."

"Oh, gods!" Qrow looked down as though he only now realised what was happening, and clutched the sheet closer. "I'm sorry, Clover. This is so weird... but it _is_ a good sign— it means I'm almost back to normal."

"That's... good. Do you still want breakfast?" The idea of breakfast was Clover's lifeline as he tried to maintain the semblance of normality in the situation.

"Mmm, if you don't mind. I'm starving."

"Right, I'll go and..." Clover withdrew and returned to the kitchen, almost slipping down the stairs in his haste. He felt the heat in his cheeks, the stirring in his abdomen. It wasn't _totally_ unexpected, but he wasn't sure how to cope with this new version of Qrow.

By the time Qrow appeared, Clover had recovered his composure. Or so he thought.

Qrow had changed. Physically he was the same, but his manner... the _energy_ coming off him... Looking at him, Clover realised he wasn't as collected as he'd hoped. The smile Qrow sent his way didn't help either.

"You okay, boy scout?"

There it was again. The lazy, teasing tone. The casual nickname. And that smile.

At least Qrow was wearing actual clothes now.

"Scrambled eggs? On toast?"

"You know the way to a man's heart." Qrow winked at Clover before going to the fridge to find the fruit juice.

Clover felt reality was teetering beneath his feet. Qrow was so... _alluring_ , and yet he wasn't the Qrow who had occupied Clover's thoughts during the past few days.

"Uh, how long does this last? Before you get back to your normal self?" Clover handed him the scrambled eggs, concentrating on holding the plate steady.

"No more than a day— maybe only a few hours, I think." Qrow took a mouthful, nodding appreciatively. "These are good, thanks. You're a man of many talents." He smiled at Clover, holding his gaze for longer than strictly necessary.

"And... do you know you're different? That you're acting differently?"

A look of alarm crossed Qrow's face. "Oh gods, am I being— inappropriate? I can't always tell." His cheeks flushed as he looked across at Clover.

"Well..." Clover smiled slowly. "I guess that's one way of putting it. Let's just say, I saw more of you upstairs than I was expecting." His smile widened as Qrow squirmed in his seat.

"I'm really sorry... but this is good news, 'cause it means I'll be out of your hair any time now. I kind of... overcompensate, before getting back to normal." He glanced at Clover. "Sorry if I— are you alright, boy scout?"

Clover felt a heavy sensation in his chest. The thought of Qrow not being here was a bleak one. And the nickname Qrow used once more, now sounded affectionate rather than mocking. He swallowed hard, before meeting Qrow's gaze.

"I— I'm fine. I just..." Clover turned away and went to the sink, running water into the pan and clattering cutlery about. He wanted the unnecessary noise to suppress the ache he felt, to distract him from the thought of Qrow leaving.

He heard the scrape of a chair, then Qrow was at his side, putting his plate and cutlery into the sink. He glanced at Clover.

"This is tricky for me, Clover. I don't want to say anything— significant, because you might think it's not genuine. But—" he broke off, chewing at his lip.

Clover turned to face him. "How will you know, when you're back to your own self for good?"

Qrow frowned. "I guess, when all my memories are back in place? Look," he peered out of the window, "I'm going to go out for a bit. Try and walk this off, or something. I don't—"

Clover's breath hitched as Qrow raised a hand to his face. His slender fingers stroked around the edge of Clover's mouth.

"You have very kissable lips, you know. Can I—?" His expression as he looked at Clover was quite different to a moment before.

Clover drew a deep breath, and moved Qrow's hand away from his face. "Maybe later."

"Sounds good to me." Qrow walked to the back door. "See you in a while, Clover." The door closed behind him, and Clover watched him stroll casually across the grass to the far fence. His hands gripped the edge of the counter, tears threatening to spill. He wanted to kiss Qrow, very much. But only if Qrow was back to his normal self when it happened.

❖

Clover had hoovered the house, upstairs and downstairs. The living room was tidy, the dishwasher empty, and Qrow had not returned. _Will he even come back? Maybe this is it, and he's gone back to... wherever it is._ Clover had been sitting at his desk for about thirty minutes, the document still blank in front of him. His heart jolted when he heard the back door open and close.

Breathing fast, he went to the kitchen. There was Qrow, hair windswept and cheeks pink. His eyes were glittering— not with the slightly predacious look of earlier, but with exhilaration.

"That's better! I had a good long fly, I know where I need to go, and I feel totally myself again! Oh, and you have two cracked tiles near the ridge of your roof."

Clover stared at him, his mouth trembling. Opening his mouth to speak, he realised he didn't know what he wanted to say. He pressed a closed fist to his lips, as Qrow looked at him, still smiling.

"Is everything okay, Clover? It was only two tiles..."

Clover could feel the tears prickling at his eyes, and rubbed his face roughly. "Never mind the tiles... are you truly yourself now? Completely?"

Qrow nodded, rubbing his hands through his hair in a vain attempt to tidy it. Clover moved across the room to stand in front of him. "In that case, can I—" He raised a hesitant hand to Qrow's cheek. The shining red eyes gazed back at him.

"Please do."

Clover's other hand came up and he cupped Qrow's cool face, his lips brushing lightly against the other man's. He felt Qrow's arms slip around his waist, felt himself drawn closer to the wiry, yet muscular body. Qrow's warm breath tickled across his lips, and his mouth closed over Qrow's more firmly, the kiss lengthening until Qrow broke away, laughing. "That was worth waiting for." He looked into Clover's eyes, his warm smile drawing a smiling response.

"I wasn't expecting anything like this to happen, when you appeared in the garden the other day. But... I'm glad it has." Clover traced one finger along the side of Qrow's face. "I know you have to leave, only... I don't want to say goodbye."

"That's two of us, then." Qrow leaned in, the kiss this time more urgent, more breathless. "I have to go, but I'll come back soon. If that's okay with you."

"You know it is." Clover pulled Qrow close, burying his face in the unkempt dark hair. "I want to get to know you so much better, Qrow. I've felt so alive these last few days..."

"Mmm. And you know, I'd already been thinking how this whole spying thing was getting me down. I think I need a break from it."

"Well, there's a spare room here with your name on it." Clover paused. "What _is_ your name? You never said."

Red eyes looked into green. "Qrow Branwen."

"Clover Ebi, in case you'd forgotten."

"Right then, Clover Ebi, write your number down for me. I can't give you mine, as my scroll is officially dead. But I know where you live, at least. We crows have good memories." He paused. "I just need to pop up to the bedroom... check I've not left anything behind."

Clover didn't want to release Qrow, but he did, going to the living room and writing his number on a piece of paper. Qrow came back downstairs a moment later and he took the note, folding it carefully and tucking it into an inside pocket.

"Will you call me, when you arrive?"

Qrow smiled. "I will." His smile faded, as he took Clover's hand. "I can't thank you enough for looking after me, and... putting up with me. I can be a bit stroppy at times, I know."

Clover recalled the surly man who'd sworn at him, on that first evening. "I know," he grinned. "But I'm brave; I can take it."

"Let's hope so." Qrow's smile was more teasing. "Perhaps we'll find out, next time."

Clover swallowed. _Silly to get so attached to someone, after only a few days._ He lifted Qrow's hand to his lips. "Are you setting off soon?"

Qrow's face twisted. "Might as well go now. I don't know how long it might take, and as the weather's fine at the moment..."

"Okay. Where will you... take off from?"

"I'll just go from the back garden. Do you want to—"

"Wave you off? Yeah, I do."

Qrow went to the window and picked the feather from the jar. He looked at it, then turned to Clover and gently stroked his cheek with it. "I'll see you again, Clover."

Clover took the feather and brushed it against Qrow's nose. "Good."

They went out into the garden. It was a cool day, the sun coming and going as the clouds moved across the sky. Qrow heard the wind sighing through the trees, and he itched to launch himself skyward. At the same time, he didn't want to leave.

Clover hung back. There was an ache in his chest, but he didn't want Qrow to know. _I want to say goodbye with a smile. I can do that._

Qrow walked over to him. "I'll miss you, but it won't be for long. I'm due some time off, anyway." He put his hands on Clover's shoulders, kissing him one final time. "See you soon," he breathed against Clover's cheek.

Qrow turned away and took a few steps across the grass. Before Clover could process what had happened, the man became a bird and was rising quickly into the air. After a couple of circles round, it struck out in a westerly direction, wings beating strongly. Clover stood with one hand raised in farewell, shivering a little, until he could no longer discern it.

  


As Qrow rose into the air, relishing the buffeting of the breeze beneath his wings, he tilted his head and saw Clover far below. For a moment he almost stopped flapping, wanting to drop back to the man he'd grown so close to in such a short time. He resisted the urge, knowing he would be back here as soon as he could.

  


Clover slowly returned to the house, which now seemed emptier than it ever had before. He went upstairs to the spare bedroom, to strip the bedclothes and tidy up.

On the dresser was a silver and black ring. It did not belong to Clover.

Also on the dresser was a black feather, smaller than the one in the kitchen. The shaft of the feather was passed through the ring.

Beside the ring and feather, was a small, slightly crushed sprig of clover leaves.

Clover smiled as he traced one fingertip along the feather.

He knew Qrow would return.

**Author's Note:**

> Friendly comments always appreciated, thank you.


End file.
